She gave a slight nod. "Special Agent Veronica Vasquez at your service," she said, realizing too late that she had sounded as if it was a military pronouncement. She quickly tried to correct her tone. "And you must be—?"
"Detective Sergeant Bryan Waldicott, Homicide Division, Portland Police Bureau," he said with obvious amusement. He stuck out his hand, which Veronica shook in an obligatory show of greeting that seemed to last longer than either of them had probably intended. Waldicott was the first to pull away, while giving her a hard look. "Right off the bat, Special Agent Vasquez, I think I should be perfectly honest with you and say that I was initially opposed to calling in someone from the FBI to help with this case. I figured the last thing we needed was to have the Feds looking over our shoulders while we try to get a handle on a murder case that's strictly local as far as I can tell."
Veronica thought about the word initially. Why should he, of all people, be opposed to assistance from his former employer? Was there a story there? Did she need to know it? She hadn't heard specifically that there had been bad blood when he left the Bureau. But that didn't mean there wasn't any.
"So what changed your mind?" she asked, assuming that he had made an about face.
Waldicott ran his hand the length of a square jaw and sculpted chin with a deep cleft its centerpiece and sighed thoughtfully. "Well, I guess I came to realize that at this point we could really use all the help we can get. Even from the FBI. We've got a ruthless serial killer on the prowl and he's not only elusive, but he's frightening the hell out of the women in Portland. And a few of us men, too. So who was I to tell my boss, much less the families of the victims, that I wasn't willing to do anything and everything in my power to bring this monster to justice?"
"I'll be happy to do all I can," Veronica promised, feeling somewhat relieved that she hadn't apparently made an enemy of the man she had been assigned to work with. "And, just for the record, I'm not here to step on anyone's toes, Detective. I just want to fit in as part of the team working on this case. Fair?"
He looked at her for a moment as if weighing his options, before cracking a slight smile. "More than fair, Agent Vasquez."
Veronica flashed a tiny smile of mutual cooperation. So far, so good, she thought. Realistically, she knew there was only so much a profiler could do—no matter her skills and intuition. Yes, she could draw a composite of the killer and the likely victims. She could even tell them all they ever wanted to know about the psyche of a serial killer. But the real blood and guts work was performed by the people who had to follow up on leads, which often went nowhere, and sort through mounds and mounds of evidence and would-be evidence until they ultimately captured or killed the serial killer. Or stood by helplessly as the trail went cold while he continued to evade and taunt them.
"Please, sit down," offered Waldicott with a sweep of his long arm.
Veronica sat again in the black leather chair. She watched as Bryan Waldicott sat at a desk that somehow seemed too small for a man his size. A file folder lay open on it. Waldicott looked up at her, down at the folder, and up again.
"So this is a homecoming of sorts for you," he commented with a brow cocked whimsically. "It says here that you grew up in Portland."
Veronica shivered. "Yes, on both counts."
Waldicott looked at her curiously. "So why did you leave? In many respects, this seems like the ideal place to live and raise a family."
Veronica wondered if this was a chauvinistic statement against women being in the work force, much less law enforcement, which was still mostly a male dominated profession. On the other hand, she could also imagine that Bryan Waldicott had a knock against FBI agents, in specific, as a former member of the ranks himself.
As if he sensed the implications of the question, Waldicott answered it himself with a shrug. "Why does anyone ever move away? Usually because they found something—or someone—better elsewhere. So which is it?"
Veronica considered the question and decided to reverse the tables. "Is that why you left the FBI?" she asked bluntly, seizing the moment. Or maybe it was the mystery behind the man himself that made her curious. "Because you found something...or someone better?"
Veronica could see that she had definitely struck a nerve, as Waldicott's brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed to little more than razor slits. Immediately, she wished she had kept her mouth shut, if only because he was technically her superior. She had placed a courtesy call to the FBI field office in Portland and they had made it very clear that her current orders and assignment came from the man before her. A sinking feeling told Veronica that she had no more right to pry into his personal life than he had to pry into hers.
Waldicott's mouth had become an irregular line, but then softened. "Looks like you've done some of your own homework, Agent Vasquez. I suppose that's only fair, all things considered." He took a breath. "If you must know, I left the Bureau because it seemed the best thing to do at the time. I have no regrets."
Veronica could tell that he was clearly troubled by this, whatever the issue was, but managed to put on a brave face. His smile returned and he seemed to be waiting for her to respond to his original question of why she'd left home and the idyllic setting of the Pacific Northwest for a life elsewhere.
I'm not ready to share the intimate details of my personal life with him or anyone else at this time, she told herself.
After Veronica thought about it, she realized she could be just as succinct and mysterious with her response as he was, while keeping her own little secrets to herself. "I had an offer to join the FBI in D.C.," she said simply. "And I took it."
"All right," Waldicott said. He seemed content to settle for that.
Veronica breathed a sigh of relief. As far as she was concerned, you could ask her anything about her profession or skills and she would be happy to respond, but her private life was to remain a closed book. It was too painful to open. Especially for someone she just met. Even though Bryan Waldicott seemed like he was used to getting what he went after sooner or later. She was determined to be the exception to the rule.
Waldicott closed the folder and stood up in one motion. "I'll introduce you to everyone you haven't already met. Then we'll put your psychology and profiling skills to work—"
Veronica was sure she detected no sarcasm in his tone, which would make it much easier to work with him. She indicated her readiness by standing up. As they locked eyes, she had an uneasy feeling that they had not finished what they started. Strangely, she was not really even sure what that was.
Waldicott proffered his arm toward the door like a perfect gentleman and Veronica walked out ahead of him, lightly brushing against his jacket sleeve. She instantly felt electricity pass between them, causing the hair on the back of her neck to rise. She wondered if he felt it, too.
# # #
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
R. Barri Flowers is an award winning criminologist and bestselling author of more than sixty books, including thriller fiction, young adult mysteries, true crime, and criminology titles.
Bestselling mystery and thriller fiction including Before He Kills Again, Seduced to Kill in Kauai, Murder in Maui, Murder in Honolulu, Killer in The Woods, Dark Streets of Whitechapel, State's Evidence, and Justice Served. Other novels by the author include the bestselling romance, Forever Sweethearts, and the young adult novels, Count Dracula's Teenage Daughter, Ghost Girl in Shadow Bay, and Danger in Time.
Flowers has also written a number of bestselling true crime books, including The Sex Slave Murders, The Pickaxe Killers, Serial Killer Couples, and Mass Murder in the Sky. He was also editor of the bestselling anthology, Masters of True Crime.
The author has been interviewed on the Biography Channel and Investigation Discovery.
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The Wrong End Of A Gun (A Noir Mystery Short) Page 4